Reunited
by Goddess Virgo of the Fae
Summary: AU after X2. Pyro/Rogue. Pyro left, and is fairly happy with Magneto and Mystique. When they save a mutant from a testing facility, how will things turn out? Back after 6 years!
1. Rogue?

Reunited  
  
By: Goddess Virgo of the Fae  
  
Summary: Pyro left, and is fairly happy with Magneto and Mystique, and when they save a mutant from a testing facility, how will things turn out?  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Disclaimer: X-men aren't mine.  
  
Author's Note: I wrote this because I got bored. Sorry if you don't like it, but I hope you do.  
  
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It had been about a year since John had gotten on the helicopter with the "enemy", and he hadn't really regretted it. In fact, he was actually happier than he had been when he was attending Xavier's. At his new home, if he could really call it that, he didn't have to pretend that he was something that he wasn't, happy. And thus, we begin.  
  
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Pyro took a deep breath as he followed Magneto and Mystique into the compound, which was a huge metal and cement building with security that was really a joke. They'd gotten in without any trouble except for a couple guards trying to stop them, which were taken care of easily. The real protection, John supposed, would be inside the place, trying to keep its' inhabitants in.  
  
A mutant testing facility is what it was, and it was those very words that had him nearly breathing the fire that he loved so dearly. Testing on mutants was disgusting, but it seemed that some didn't share his feelings on the matter.  
  
The trio crept through a maze of hallways, Magneto in the lead, as he had the corridors of the building firmly imprinted in his mind. In the entire complex, there were about sixty mutants, and the more important the testing they underwent, the more heavily guarded they were. Finally, when it seemed that they had come to their destination, the control room, Magneto floated four thin pieces of copper wire into the room. After some muffled gurgling, the three entered the room at last.  
  
Four men lay on the floor, all with their heads unattached and a piece of copper lying on their chests. Making himself not cringe at the sight, Pyro stepped over one fallen man and behind Magneto, who was seated at the control panels. After a moment of typing, the power in all parts of the building was gone. Emergency lights flipped on after a second, but when they did, the room was empty.  
  
Moving swiftly, the three made their way to where security would be tightest, the center of the labyrinth. There, they would find the most important experiment to the people running the facility, and they would break whomever it was out. When they were only a turn away, they heard a scream of unimaginable pain, which was followed by a loud and dry sob. They came to find that there were about ten guards outside the one door, all as stiff as boards, holding their guns firmly.  
  
Quickly, the three pounced on the guards. Everything was going just peachy until one of the men radioed for back up. Nearly immediately, there were about twenty more on them, and it seemed that more were coming. The fight was beginning to turn for the worst, when all of a sudden, the sound of a huge boom was heard from inside the room being protected. All of the humans stared in horror at the door, for they all knew what was behind it.  
  
With the electricity to the building cut off, that meant that the mutation dampers in each room were offline as well. Taking advantage of their momentary distress, Magneto pulled each of their guns from them and used them against their owners. Just as he was about to approach the door, something dented it from within. The dent looked like . . . a fist mark. And without further ado, the door flew from its sliding metal track and into the wall opposite it. Coughing slightly at the dust from the cement that was flying in the air, John struggled to see who had caused such damage.  
  
Through the dust, he could the outline of a feminine figure, her hair appearing to reach her lower back. Finally, when everything had settled, the "Brotherhood of Mutants" was quite surprised to see who stood before them. Her hair was longer and her eyes even more haunted than before, but it was definitely her.  
  
And so, Pyro found himself whispering her name. "Rogue."  
  
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Author's Note: I'd really appreciate if you told me what you think about this, it was done fairly quickly for me. Sorry it was so short.  
  
Thanks for reading,  
  
Goddess 


	2. Shot down

Chapter 2  
  
Author's Note: Sorry this is so short, but I just needed some good suspense for my next chapter.  
  
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Looking at them, Rogue's eyes clouded over and she took a wary step away from the disaster that used to be her cell. "Hello Rogue." Magneto said, stepping toward her; he wasn't very surprised when she tensed up and fell into a defensive stance. "We're here to help you child, but the guards will come soon, so we must leave now." He reached out to touch her covered shoulder, and before anyone could blink, she had him pinned to the wall outside the cell with one gloved hand. It seemed that her thigh length cotton gown allowed her much movement.  
  
Quite surprised, John noticed that his bosses' feet weren't touching the floor, and yet the smaller mutant's body seemed to be having little trouble. Mystique, alarmed, unthinkingly jumped at Rogue from behind, but almost immediately, she was batted away like a fly. Magneto managed to regain his senses enough to hit her in the side with the metal door she'd knocked down, and she collided hard with a different wall.  
  
Now though, she didn't get up and attack, she stayed on the floor, looking at them with wild eyes. Just before Mystique was about to approach her again, Pyro told her to stop. He knew what it was to be irrationally angry and scared. "Rogue, we don't want to hurt you."  
  
Growling low in the back of her throat, a trait she'd picked up from the Wolverine himself, she glared at him. "Rogue, stop, it's me, John." She growled again. "Okay, lets try something different. Rogue, it's Pyro. You remember me, don't you? Come on Rogue, you know me, you know me better than a lot of people. Marie . . . try." Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and shook her head furiously back and forth.  
  
A word, while quiet, managed to slip from her mouth in a low moan. "No."  
  
"Yes. But we can talk about everything later, we just need to get out of here first." Mystique and Magneto, while happy that he seemed to be getting through, were very surprised at the gentle tone the hot headed mutant was using with his ex-teammate. "Come on Rogue, we're here to help." Moving slowly and cautiously, he walked to her.  
  
The shouts and yells of approaching guards sounded from just down the hall and John grabbed her by the shoulders lightly. "We have to go now." Nodding once, she let herself be led past Magneto and Mystique, though she watched them cautiously, and to the passage they'd come from. The shouting was getting closer, and Rogue was beginning to get that wild look back in her eyes. Before they could be attacked, the Master of Magnetism brought down a section of the ceiling with the metal reinforcement rods inside it.  
  
Ushering Rogue toward the exit of the building wasn't really a problem, as escape was the only thing on her mind. They were almost to the place where'd they'd entered when it happened. One lone guard ran in front of them and fired what looked like one very big gun. It all happened so quickly that Magneto didn't have the chance to catch the bullet before it hit the object of their rescue mission dead in the chest.  
  
Holding both hands to where she'd been hit, Rogue stumbled back a step and glared at the shooter, and then she fell to her knees. Before the man had a chance to move, Magneto had used his own gun and shot him with it. Now the only problem was Rogue . . .  
  
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Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I'm quite happy. Now, tell me what you think about this chapter and I'll be even happier.  
  
And you know what they say, 'A happy writer is a productive writer.'  
  
Thanks again,  
  
Goddess 


	3. Home Sweet Home

Author's Note: Hey everyone, sorry it took me a while to update.  
  
I know that John's sort of OOC, but I couldn't very well say that he was soothing Rogue while he was also blowing up cop cars. I just don't think it would've fit, you know what I mean?  
  
I also know that Magneto and Mystique probably shouldn't be acting the way they are in some parts, but that's the lovely thing about my story, it's FANFICTION.  
  
Anyway, I'll get out of your hair and let you read the story already. Happy reading!  
  
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~ Chapter 3 ~  
  
John pulled her to him and tried to see the wound, but she didn't let him do anything of the sort, instead she stood up and pulled her hands from where she'd been hit. In her right hand was a small, clean, flattened piece of metal, the bullet. The chest of her hospital gown had a small hole where she'd been hit, but the skin underneath was flawless.  
  
Seeing that she was all right, Magneto ordered them to get through the door at the end of the corridor, and they did with no hesitation. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of running, they came to the helicopter they'd come in. Pulling the door open, they got in, Mystique and Magneto in the front and Pyro and Rogue in the back.  
  
The compound became smaller and harder to see as they flew farther and farther into the darkness of night, and in her mind Rogue bid it good riddance.  
  
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On the journey toward the base, Rogue fell asleep sitting in the seat beside of John. The entire time until she'd fallen to slumber, she watched him with cautious eyes, and every time he shifted to get more comfortable she sat up straighter. It was as if she expected him to attack her and she was getting ready to fight. The thing that made his theory really sad, was that it was probably true.  
  
Finally after a few hours of traveling, the base, a fairly large gray Victorian house, came into view. It was surrounded by woods on all sides, as was the landing pad a couple hundred yards away. As the helicopter landed Rogue awoke with a start; immediately her posture became defensive.  
  
"Rogue, it's all right." John soothed, and again his tone surprised his superiors. "We're not going to hurt you here, don't worry." She didn't seem very convinced, but she let him lead her out of the helicopter all the same. With kind hands, he led her past his boss to the house, up the front stairs and into the house.  
  
Her eyes darted everywhere, trying to take everything in, and more than likely looking for a good escape route should it be needed. "I'm going to take you to my room for now, okay?" Rogue stared at him blankly and he sighed. "Come on." John grabbed her hand gently and tugged her up a narrow staircase with metal walls and a metal floor. In fact most of the house, it seemed, was either made of metal or incased in it.  
  
They came to a large oak door with bars of iron running up and down it, and Pyro pushed it open. Inside, the walls were a redish orangish color (almost seeming like flames), there was a queen-sized bed with a black comforter, a night table with magazines and books on it, a desk with a few pens and pieces of paper scattered across it, and a tall dresser in the corner. Rogue seemed to calm down a little when she saw that there was a window beside the dresser.  
  
Pulling the top drawer of the dresser open, he produced a pair of drawstring red pants and a plain white tee shirt. "These are probably too big, but. . ." He handed them to her and turned his back, silently telling her to change. After a couple minutes, he turned back around and saw that she was dressed in his clothes, both pieces a bit too big for her, and her white cotton gloves.  
  
"I don't know what you want to do, but I'm really tired, so I'm going to go to sleep, okay? You can take the bed and I'll sleep on the floor." Pyro pulled a pillow off the bed and dropped it on the floor. He grabbed a blanket from the bottom drawer of his dresser and tossed it down with it. "Goodnight Rogue." He said as she lay down stiffly on the bed and he flipped off the light.  
  
They'd been laying there for about fifteen minutes when John's lighter flared to life. "Are you always this talkative?" He asked as he rolled a ball of fire from one hand to the other. "Or is it because of me?" She didn't say anything, but he could tell that she wasn't asleep by her breathing. "What's your favorite color?" Still she didn't speak. Pyro sighed, pushing the fire up and over him until its height was above the bed. "Okay, fine what's your least favorite color?"  
  
Just as he was about to ask another question, she said her first word since the one syllable she'd spoken when they got to her (check the second chapter if you don't remember). "White."  
  
"Oh, why white?"  
  
"My cell was white." John didn't say anything else for the rest of the night, and Rogue was glad for it.  
  
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Author's Note: Okay, I know it's not my best writing in the world, but I did what I could. Please review, I really want to know what you people are thinking!  
  
Thanks for reading,  
  
Goddess 


	4. Breakfast with Wolverine

Author's Note: So, guess what? I'm baaaccccckkkkk! Now that it's been six years since my last update, I thought it was about time. Now, please keep in mind that six years is a long time and a person can change a lot. I am no longer a fifteen year old girl, but a twenty-one year old woman, who has developed quite the potty mouth. Sorry if curse words offend you, but they're not going anywhere. Nothing huge happens in this chapter, it more or less just helps to set the scene and give details, back story and all that good stuff.

Anyhow, I guess I'll let you get to it. I hope this meets your expectations. I tried.

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~Chapter 4~

The next morning, John woke up with a sore back and a crick in the neck. He was a bit confused at first, wondering why he was on the floor; had he fallen out of bed? He didn't move as his memories of the night before came rushing back to him. He almost began to panic when he realized she was no longer in his bed, but quickly pushed down the urge, instead continuing his scan of the room. When he reached the window, his gaze rested on Rogue's frail looking frame, skinnier than when he'd lived with her at the mansion, cheeks sunken. She was balanced precariously on the small window ledge, one leg dangling outside, the other pulled up to her chest with an arm around it. Her back was hunched awkwardly and it was as though she had sunk as far into herself as she could. She didn't seem to notice that he was up, even after he stood and walked toward her slowly. John had his hand poised to tap her on the shoulder when her soft voice made him jump. "Will I be waking up soon?"

"What?" John asked, confused.

"This can't really be happening." He was hit with a wave of understanding and it left a heavy feeling in his chest. Not knowing what to say, he scratched the back of his neck and looked out the window with her. Finally, he figured out how to respond.

Hoping for the best and not an elbow to the throat, John reached over and pinched her arm as hard as he could. Rogue flinched a little at the contact, but otherwise, she just cocked her head to the side. "If this were a dream, you wouldn't feel that, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Though no words left her mouth, a ghost of a smile played across her lips. Again, they were left in silence. Awkwardly, John cleared his throat and said, "If you want to clean up, there's a bathroom across the hall and I'll get you some more of my clothes. I know they're too big, but it's all I've got." He received no response. "If you're hungry, the kitchen's down the stairs and down the hallway to the left. I'm just gonna. . ." Still no response and it didn't even look as though she was listening to him anymore. He turned, put a shirt and some pants on the bed, and left without another word.

Contrary to what John may have thought, she had been listening to every word he said. It was not rudeness that had kept her thoughts inside, but the concept of being very sparing with her words. Rogue had grown unused to speaking without strict permission. There had been times, especially in the beginning when her mouth ran away with her, getting her into trouble. When they'd used a cattle prod to shut her up, she screamed, but as soon as they stopped she laughed and kept shit talking. When they'd cut into her skin, taking samples of blood, bones, tissue, etcetera, without anesthesia and she passed out from the pain, as soon as she woke up the words once again began flying out of her mouth. It was during a testing session that they finally found a way to silence her.

A little girl named Samantha was brought in. Her mutation had shown itself very early after she watched her mother die in a car accident; low level telekinesis. They strapped her, fully aware, but wholly unaware of what was about to happen, onto a gurney next to Rogue. With Samantha's scared eyes burning into her own, the doctors made them touch hands. Only when she realized that they meant for her to completely drain the little girl, did Rogue start begging. They had finally found her weakness; killing others caused her incredible emotional pain. For the rest of the day, she was a scared nine year-old, curled up in the corner of her cell. After that she was silent for the most part. Whenever she slipped up, she took a life. She used to slip up a lot. No more.

Coming back to herself, she stood and heard numerous bones pop. The clothes on the bed were much like the ones she was already wearing, black drawstring pants and a faded red Firebird t-shirt. Rogue glanced down at her uncovered arms and immediately headed for the dresser. Triumphant, she found a long sleeve, black thermal to cover the rest of herself. Now, to the bathroom. No big deal, she could do this. Seriously, it was only across the hallway. Piece of cake. Somehow, the message wasn't computing to her feet and she found herself frozen at the prospect of leaving the room. Finally, pissed off at her own cowardice, Rogue ambled sluggishly to the door, turned the knob and stepped into the hallway. Eyes scanning either way, she darted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. She let her head drop against the wood and tried to keep herself from hyperventilating. Frustration didn't even begin to explain how the young mutant was feeling about herself; it was just a fucking hallway, four feet at the most.

Exhaling, Rogue turned to the shower, took off her gloves and after fiddling around for a moment, got the temperature to a warm setting. After dropping her pants and throwing off her shirt, she looked in the mirror and was horrified by what she saw. Her emaciated figure was only intensified by the pallor of her skin. Her cheeks were sunken in, there were dark purple shadows under her eyes and her mouth seemed to be set in a permanent frown. Angry, she squeezed her eyelids together and wished she still knew how to cry. Her shower took well over half an hour and when she got out, she kept her gaze firmly away from the mirror. The clothes were entirely too big, but the sleeves came down passed her hands and the pants covered her feet, so that was really all that mattered. The less skin the better.

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John listened attentively as he heard the water turn on upstairs. He'd been wary of leaving her alone, but knew that there was really nothing he could do about it. Really, his behavior last night had been every bit as confusing to him as it had been to Mystique and Magneto. He didn't do sweet and comforting, nor did he go out of his way to make people feel better; that just wasn't Pyro. There was something about her, though. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was a part of him that was telling him to handle this girl with care. He would've generally told that part of himself to shut the fuck up, if only the rest of him didn't agree that she needed him.

He would do his best to help her. He remembered the Rogue of only a year before; scared, but fully prepared to do whatever it took to do the right thing. That girl was gone and in her place there was a ghost of spun glass and ash, looking on the verge of falling apart should the wind blow too hard. Even the shock of white in her hair was muted and it was as though she was fuzzy around the edges, almost not really there, but not really gone either.

When John finally knocked himself out of his melancholy thoughts the water was no longer on upstairs and the coffee pot was full. The stove was on, but he'd yet to start cooking the eggs or the bacon he'd put on the counter. The oven was pre-heated and the biscuits could go in at anytime. Briefly, he glanced at the apron in the pantry, before he shook his head in disgust. He already felt enough like Martha fucking Stewart, no need to add insult to injury or estrogen to how unmanly he felt at the moment.

Twenty minutes later, breakfast was ready and he was just taking the biscuits out, when Rogue peeked around the corner. She took a deep breath and walked slowly into the room, pausing a few feet away from the bar, where there were two place settings. John stood across from her for a few seconds, gazing into her eyes as she unwittingly drew him in. Who knows how long they stood there before Rogue finally averted her eyes. Finally, the pyrokinetic regained control of himself and immediately started in with a mental scolding. Where the hell was Pyro, and who was this pussy in his place?

Breakfast was a quiet affair and she only ate about half of what was on her plate. It was very good, but her stomach was unused to large portions and things that weren't strictly a goop texture (i.e.-oatmeal, porridge, etc.).

"Hello, my dear." Rogue was up and on the opposite side of the room in an instant. Magneto watched her with highly intrigued eyes as she crouched low and seemed to revert to some instinctual, animal part of herself. They'd seen it briefly yesterday when they first found her, but that was in the heat of the moment. This, though. . . This was truly something to be seen as she let out a growl and balanced on the balls of her feet. This was Wolverine. "Pyro, be ready." Eric told him, and he knew exactly what he meant. If she snapped, he was to put her down. Fire flowed from the pilot light on the stove and encased his hand as he regretfully poised himself for an attack. Amazingly enough she did not back down, but growled louder and all of a sudden, her hands turned an icy blue and the floor around her frosted over. This was Iceman. . . Bobby. Her eyes took on a white sheen and they heard thunder outside. Storm.

Well, shit.

For the first time in his life, John turned to his boss and told him what to do. "Get out of here. I'll let you know when it's safe." Magneto looked as though he wanted to say something, just as the power flickered and lightning flashed outside. Without a word he did an about face and left. John instantly let the fire go and knelt down. His voice was soft as he tried to talk to her. "Marie, I need you to calm down. No one here is going to hurt you, you're safe." The wind started to die down as he held out his hand to her, as one would to a wounded animal. "Hey, it's okay. You're fine. You're okay." The clouds began to dissipate and rays of sunshine shone through. "C'mon Rogue, you're just fine. You're safe." With every soft word that spilled from his mouth, she inched closer to him. By the time she reached his spot on the floor, there was no evidence of a storm outside and there was a puddle on the other side of the kitchen. Slowly, she crouched down the where he was kneeling on the ground and leaned in.

John was shocked as she sniffed his shirt. He was even more shocked when she sat down beside him and laid her head on his leg, snuffling against his stomach. It seemed that the animal in her liked his smell.

It was nearly an hour later before the Wolverine in her receded back to where he'd come from. Slowly, Rogue turned her head and looked up at John's face. She swallowed as she pulled herself off of him and the look on her face apologized better than any words. Thinking of the house and avoiding structural damage, he gently took her hand and led her to the back door. "C'mon, let's go outside." She froze on the edge of the porch, just on the inside of the shadows. Painfully long seconds went by as she first put a hand out in the sunlight then drew it back, followed by her other hand. Finally she stepped off the edge and her feet sunk into the grass. Her face gave way to wonder and she turned it to the sky, the sun making her pale skin glow.

In that moment, she was everyone. And all together, they had the same thought, 'Freedom.'


End file.
